


Something's Wrong with Napoleon

by YumYumPM



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 14:07:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1390588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YumYumPM/pseuds/YumYumPM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Napoleon is not acting like himself and attempts by Illya to find out why meet with little success...until...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something's Wrong with Napoleon

Act 1

Illya left Mr. Waverly’s office after reporting to him on the month long affair he had just completed. It had not been a difficult mission, just boring.

“Mr. Kuryakin? Illya?” Lisa Rogers, Waverly’s administrative assistant called after him.

Illya turned back, puzzled, she never addressed him as Illya, it was always Mr. Kuryakin. “Yes, Ms. Rogers.” 

She looked somewhat embarrassed. “Have you seen Mr. Solo recently?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Not yet, I’m afraid I’ve just gotten back. Why?”

She wrung her hands nervously. “It’s just that everyone is worried about him. He’s been acting rather strangely lately, there have been complaints and Mr. Waverly has been thinking about ordering a psych test on him.”

Both eyebrows went up at that. “Are you suggesting that maybe he's not Napoleon?”

“Oh, no…medical has confirmed that he’s one hundred percent Solo. It’s just….” Her voice trailed off. “When he got back last week ... from his last assignment he …” it was as if she couldn’t describe what the problem was.

“What was his last assignment?” Illya asked.

“I don’t really know.” Lisa seemed aggrieved. “Mr. Waverly handled everything on it personally.”

Not really understanding what it was she wanted, he nodded and promised to check up on Napoleon. But first he planned to satisfy the inner man. It had been awhile since his last meal, so he headed to the commissary for a sandwich and tea. He was almost finished when Napoleon entered the commissary and Illya sat back to watch him. Strangely enough, Napoleon wasn’t flirting with the checkout girl. Illya sat up straighter as he continued watching his partner and he noticed something unusual. Napoleon wasn’t making eye contact with any of the females in the commissary. He managed to catch Napoleon's eye and soon found himself waving Napoleon over.

“Welcome back, Illya. How did your assignment go?” Napoleon asked as he sat down with his tray.

“I've had more excitement, in fact it was downright boring. Just what have you been up to while I was away?” Illya looked at him carefully. Napoleon looked a little tired but that was all.

“Not much, just doing paperwork,” he replied without looking at Illya directly.

Not sure how to brooch the subject or even if he should, Illya decided on the direct approach. “What about your last assignment, was it rough?”

Suddenly Napoleon tensed. “Ummm, look at the time. I have a lot of paperwork to finish before the agents' meeting this afternoon.” He got up hurriedly and rushed away, leaving his uneaten meal on the table. 

Illya arrived later that afternoon at the agents' meeting and sat at the back of the room. Napoleon was going over each case with the agents who had worked them. What was unusual, Napoleon was being a real bastard about it; every agent was reprimanded for every little mistake that was made on every assignment. Several agents even got into shouting matches with Napoleon as they disagreed with his assessments. Illya frowned. This must have been what Lisa meant for this was not like the Napoleon Solo he knew. Getting up, Illya quickly pulled away the agent that was presently in Napoleon’s face and suggested that maybe this meeting should continue at a later date.

Napoleon leaned back in his chair as the other agents filed out. “I could have handled that,” he remarked with a frown.

“Of course you could, “Illya agreed, then decided to change the subject. “So what have you got planned for tonight? Got a big date?”

“Naww, too much paperwork,” Napoleon answered. However, he wasn't looking at Illya, who thought the cleanliness of his desk belied that statement.

“How about we go get some Chinese, my treat,” Illya offered, thinking that if he got Napoleon away from headquarters he might learn what the problem was.

Napoleon seemed reluctant but finally agreed.

Things did not improve at the restaurant; Illya noticed that Napoleon was not being his usual self. Normally his eyes followed every woman that passed and tonight he ignored them all. Whenever Illya went to mention Napoleon's odd behavior the subject was abruptly changed. All in all he seemed uncomfortable. Although Napoleon never drank to excess, he did enjoy a cocktail or two and Illya hoped that after a drink or two Napoleon would loosen up enough to let on what was bothering him, however, tonight he wasn’t drinking at all. When Illya suggested that they have a nightcap, Napoleon declined saying he wanted to get up early for work tomorrow. Something was definitely wrong with Napoleon and it irritated Illya that he couldn’t even get him drunk enough to talk about it.

The next morning when he arrived at headquarters, he decided to drop in on Napoleon who was already there, sitting and staring at nothing in particular. When Napoleon noticed him, he hurriedly started shuffling the papers on his desk in an effort to look busy. Shortly after that, Mr. Waverly summoned them into his office. 

When they were dismissed, Illya decided to stay behind. “Mr. Waverly?” he started not sure how to bring up the subject. “Would you mind telling me something about Napoleon’s last assignment? He has not been himself lately and I was wondering if anything from that assignment could be the cause.”

Mr. Waverly paused in the act of lighting his pipe. “I’m sorry but there is nothing about that affair that I can tell you. The whole matter has been marked confidential. It is only on a need to know basis and you do not have a need to know.” His tone was abrupt and he almost seemed embarrassed.

Illya left more confused than ever. Perhaps he didn’t have a need to know, but just what kind of assignment could Napoleon have been on that required that kind of secrecy?

Part 2  


The next day Mr. Waverly called them into his office for what should have been an easy and enjoyable assignment. Unfortunately that wasn't the way it turned out. Napoleon's behavior was hard to understand. Several times when they could have been saved themselves a lot of trouble if Napoleon had just used his considerable charm with the ladies, he didn't. For some unknown reason he not only wasn't being charming, he wasn't even trying. Illya had tried to take up the slack and he wasn't very good at it so it hadn't worked.  


Once they returned to headquarters, much bruised and limping, they made their verbal reports to Mr. Waverly. He was not pleased with the results and let them know it. As they were leaving, Mr. Waverly insisted that Illya to stay behind. The two agents exchanged glances and Illya retook his seat while Napoleon left somewhat reluctantly. Mr. Waverly started pacing. "About this last mission of yours … Mr. Solo seems to be having a problem. Has he mentioned anything to you?"  


"No, sir."  


Waverly sat back down and pulled out his pipe. "I've often felt that if Mr. Solo wasn't distracted by the fairer sex, your assignments would go more smoothly. Apparently that is not the case." Mr. Waverly took a moment to light his pipe, he shook the match in irritation. "I want you to find out what the problem is and fix it. I don't care how you do it, but do it," Mr. Waverly ordered abruptly.  


Illya nodded and got up to leave. How was he supposed to get Napoleon to talk about his problem? Lately Napoleon seemed to be avoiding him and trying to get him drunk hadn't worked. He was more certain than ever that the clue was to be found in Napoleon's previous assignment, so Illya decided to play detective. First, he headed over to records to pull the file. Unfortunately, there wasn't much information there. It seemed a simple assignment in fact. The Potentate of Azkaba had requested help in interviewing prospective brides. A bit unusual perhaps but nothing that would explain Solo's subsequent behavior.  


Illya then headed over to communications. Heidi Nordan, a tall statuesque blonde, looked up as he entered and moved around to the front of her desk. "Is there something I can help you with?" she asked, her voice sultry as she thrust her breast out.  


"Umm, yes, Ms. Nordan. I was wondering if you noticed anything unusual about Napoleon Solo's behavior in the last couple of weeks."  


"If you're referring to the fact that he hasn't asked me out lately, then yes," she remarked, looking provocatively at him.  
Maggie Oberon, a well stacked brunet, interrupted. "Illya, can I talk to you in private?" They adjourned into an empty office and Maggie turned to Illya. "I realize that it's none of my business, but Napoleon hasn't been staying in his apartment."  


Illya looked surprised.  


"As you know we try to keep track of agents so if an emergency comes up we can locate any particular agent at a given time. Napoleon goes to his apartment, I assume to change, and then he returns to headquarters and works. He's also avoiding people, even Heidi. I'm really worried."  


"Thanks, Maggie. I'd appreciate it if you would keep this confidential," Illya requested.  


His next trip was to the lab; he by-passed Simpson and went to the desk of a young woman he felt could probably help him better than anyone else. She looked up and smiled. "Illya, can I help you with something?"  


"Carol, what do you know about the latest in truth drugs that can be used to make someone talk?"  


She looked at him curiously. "Illya, as an enforcement agent, you're as aware of the truth drugs and other drugs that are available as anyone."  


"Yes, but this is different, I'm not talking about an interrogation."  


"I suppose you could always get someone drunk."  


"No…that didn't work."  


Carol was now very curious. "Okay, How about this. There is this new drug that's been making the rounds in Europe." She walked over to a cabinet and took out a box. "It's Rohypnol. It's not manufactured in the United States and when used with alcohol it makes the recipient uninhibited and tractable. I'm told that the next morning they have no memory of what has occurred."  


"That's very interesting. But what about..." he went on to change the subject.  


It wasn't until much later, when she went to put the box back up, that she noticed it was missing. 

Later that day Illya tracked Napoleon down in his office. "Are you doing anything tonight?" he asked.  


Napoleon looked up suspiciously from the file he was reading. "No, I thought I would finish up on all the paperwork I have. Why do you ask?"  


Illya looked at Napoleon's desk. It was neater than he had seen it in years. There were only three files and two of them were in his outbox. "Oh, nothing. I just happen to have two tickets to see Stan Getz and thought you might like to join me."  


Napoleon looked about to refuse. "Why don't you ask one of the ladies that are always after you?"  


Illya had to think fast on this one. "I did, but for some reason they are all busy. What do you say, I'll even spring for drinks."  


Sighing, Napoleon inquired, "Okay, I take it he’s playing at the Jazz Club? I'll meet you there."  


"Where else?" Illya tossed out, leaving before Napoleon could change his mind.  


Arriving at the Jazz Club, Illya spotted Napoleon sitting at the bar. A gorgeous redhead was sitting next to him, yet he was not paying her any attention, and it was not from lack of trying on her part. She was all but sitting in his lap. As Illya joined him, he ordered his drink and turned to study his friend. Napoleon was sitting, staring into his drink, his mind obviously elsewhere.  


"Shall we go find a table?" Illya asked.  


Napoleon looked up surprised having just noticed that Illya had arrived. "Sure," was all he said.  


Napoleon wasn't really a die-hard jazz fan like Illya. But it pleased him to see his partner enjoying himself. As he sipped his drink, he watched Illya keeping time with the music. Napoleon had to smile; he didn't often get a chance to see this side of his friend. Suddenly that wasn't the only thing it made him do. He started feeling a sensation in his groin area that he normally only got around very beautiful women. His trousers started feeling a little tight and he couldn't help squirming in his seat. Damn, he thought.  


Illya had been so taken up with the music that he almost didn't notice his partner getting up. He looked up at him with a raised eyebrow while his partner muttered something about need to find the restroom. Illya shrugged and went back to enjoying the music. After awhile, when Napoleon failed to return, he started to worry. He checked his watch and retrieved the box of pills and slipped one into Napoleon's drink. He didn't really want to do this, but it seemed the only way to get at the truth. As Napoleon retook his seat Illya jokingly asked, "What took you so long? Masturbating?"  


Napoleon in the process of taking a sip of his drink and almost choked.  


After awhile Illya was relieved to notice a change in his friend. He seemed more relaxed than he had earlier. After the set was over, they made their way to the parking area and Illya offered to drive Napoleon home. Napoleon tensed up again, but he didn't refuse. As they were driving along Illya decided now might be a good a time as any to question him about what was bothering him.  


"Napoleon?" he asked and looked at him when he didn't get a response. "Napoleon, how about telling me what you did while I was gone last month?"  


Napoleon sat with his head lolled back on the seat. He started shaking his head, fighting the drug. "No, no, don't want to talk about it." He sounded woozy.  


"Why not?" asked Illya.  


"'Cause."  


The next few minutes were filled with silence as Illya concentrated on his driving and took those remarks in. The next thing he knew Solo had moved close to him and placed his head on Illya's shoulder.  


"You smell good," Napoleon murmured.  


Illya remembered Carol saying that the pill made you uninhibited, but this was ridiculous. Now he was running his hand down Illya's chest and going lower, when Illya snapped, "Napoleon, stop. I am not one of your paramours."  


Napoleon seemed to snap out of it for a moment, then he passed out.  


Somehow Illya managed to get Napoleon back to his apartment and into bed. Deciding that it might not be a good idea to leave Napoleon by himself, Illya went into the living room and collapsed on the sofa.  


Early in the morning hours Napoleon woke up to find himself fully dressed. He got out of bed, pulling off his tie, and went into the living room to find his friend reclining on his sofa. He plopped in the chair across the way just as Illya woke up with a start. "What hit me?" he queried.  


"What do you remember?" Illya responded.  


"Music, you, needing to…," he stopped in mid sentence in embarrassment. "What did I say?" he asked.  


Illya just sat up and looked at him. "Napoleon, what's wrong?"  


Napoleon brought his hands to his face and rubbed it. "I suppose you won't give me any peace until I tell you?"  


Illya leaned forward. "It's just that I'm worried about you. We all are."  


With a sigh, Napoleon commenced to explain his assignment to interview prospective brides for the Potentate. Illya had already read that much in the report, "That couldn't have been too difficult?"  


"Ah, it wasn't just an interview. I had to have sex with them."  


"Sex? That sounds like your dreams come true."  


Laughing without much mirth Napoleon continued, "Ah yes, sounds great alright and up until the first twenty or thirty it was."  


"Twenty or thirty?" Illya repeated open-mouthed.  


"After about the hundred and fiftieth the pressure to perform just got to be…too much."  


"One hundred and fifty!" Illya repeated in astonishment.  


"Thereabouts," he said with a wave of his hand. "I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to ..." He looked embarrassed. "you know." He looked at Illya pleadingly. "Until last night."  


Illya's eyebrows had gone up in astonishment. Napoleon couldn't possibly mean what he thought he meant. Mr. Waverly had said to do whatever it took, but he probably didn't have this in mind. Still it wasn't like he'd never done it before. This did not make any sense, Napoleon loved women, and it was true that he loved sex. To see him like this was crazy.  


"And now you think you can," he squeaked. "with me?" 

Illya woke up the next morning to find he had not a stitch on and just a sheet covering his private parts. Napoleon had not only gotten it up but had done so several times. What one had to do to preserve a partnership. He could hear Napoleon whistling as he came into the bedroom, adjusting his tie and planting a big kiss on Illya's lips.  


"Good morning, Sunshine. We'll stop at your place so you can get changed before we go to the office." Napoleon said cheerfully.  


Arriving at headquarters, Napoleon appeared to be back to his old self, flirting with each and every woman that walked by.  


The two agents didn't see much of each other in the next few days. Illya decided it would be wiser to spend time working in the lab.  


Everywhere he went, however, women would come up and thank him for helping Napoleon return to his exuberant self. Many even wondered how he had managed it, but he wasn't telling. Several even went so far as to try and regale him with the details of their dates with Napoleon. This he really didn't want to hear. Evidently things were back to normal.  


Days later, Mr. Waverly called both men into his office. "I hope neither of you have plans for this weekend?" he asked apologetically as they sat down in their usual spots. "I have a little errand for you."  


Napoleon leaned close to his partner and said softly, "There goes my date with the fair Gretchen." Evidently it was not soft enough since Waverly looked up sharply at him, so he added, "Nothing I can't cancel, sir."  


"Very good, the information and everything you'll need are in the folders in front of you. Get on with it." Waverly dismissed them as he turned back to other matters.  


"Now what excuse can I use with Gretchen?" Napoleon remarked as they exited the office.  


Illya who was going through his folder just grunted.  


This time the assignment went off perfectly - no bumps, no bruises. Mr. Waverly was extremely pleased with their verbal reports and as they were leaving to work on the written one, he asked Solo to remain. The two agents exchanged raised eyebrows as Illya left the room.  


"Mr. Solo," Mr. Waverly started while stuffing his pipe. "My apologies for upsetting your plans with this assignment. Perhaps these will help make up for it."  


An envelope came round as the table turned to stop in front of Napoleon. Opening it, he found two tickets to a sold-out play called ‘Doubt – a parable’ that was taking place in Hartford, Connecticut, along with reservations at a top hotel, in Hartford, Connecticut.  


Puzzled, Napoleon informed him, "Thank you, sir, but this wasn't really necessary."  


"Nonsense. Consider it a special reward for a job well done. Off with you now and have a good time."  


As he exited the office holding the envelope, he spotted Illya standing there waiting for him.  


"What was that all about?" Illya queried  


"I'm not sure," Napoleon said somewhat mystified. "He gave me two tickets to a play. Something called ‘Doubt-a parable’?"  


Taking the tickets from him Illya remarked, "I’ve heard of this. They say it’s very good. According to this these are good seats, the fair Gretchen should enjoy it."  


"Hmmm,” Napoleon seemed preoccupied. "Yes - Gretchen?" Suddenly, as if he'd made up his mind. "Illya, why don't you join me?"  


"Me?" Illya repeated with a laugh. "I don't think so."  


"Come on. He said they were for a job well done. And you did do the job with me. Who better to go with than someone who will enjoy it? If we leave at five we'll be able to get something to eat before the concert starts. I'm not taking no for an answer so be ready."  


Illya gave in with a sigh. "I'm not looking forward to the drive back afterwards."  


"No problem, we even have reservations at the 1895 House Bed & Breakfast."  


At five Napoleon picked Illya up and they had a relaxing drive to Connecticut, getting there in plenty of time for a nice meal at a nearby restaurant before going on to the theater. The play was not really Illya's cup of tea, but he enjoyed it anyway. When the show ended to a standing ovation, the two agents left to go to the bed & breakfast. As Napoleon checked in Illya looked around at the ambiance. He was tired and couldn't keep back a yawn. Napoleon came back with the key and they went up the stairs to what Illya assumed would be rooms. It had been a long day and when Napoleon opened the door and ushered him in he couldn't help notice that there was only one bed and it was king-size.  


They both froze and Illya gave Napoleon a sharp look, "Mr. Waverly must not have known that I was coming with you."  


"No, I guess not." Napoleon said as he stared in amazement at the bed.  


"I'll go see about another room." Illya stated.  


As he turned to leave, Napoleon grabbed his arm. "Don't go."  


"Why should I stay?"  


Coming up to him Napoleon put his hands on Illya's shoulders and looking into his blue eyes. "Illya, you've done more for me than anyone else could." He took Illya's face in his hand and requested, “Stay.”  


Part 3  


Napoleon gently took Illya's face and closed in for a slow and gentle kiss. Desire inflamed him and from the moans coming from Illya, he evidently felt the same. He looked over Illya to see a cooler of champagne on a coffee table. Turning Illya so he could see it also, and going over opened it. Pouring it into two crystal goblets he toasted, "To us."  


"To us." Illya repeated with a shy smile.  


After draining and refilling them, Napoleon led Illya over to the bed and began undressing him. Off came the jacket, then the tie. He pressed his partner down on his back and ran his hands over the body lying under him. Slowly he began unbuttoning the shirt as his lips went from Illya's lips to chin to neck to nipple.  
Illya wanted to reciprocate, but he didn't have the strength to do so.  


Napoleon proceeded to pull the open shirt out of Illya's slacks, his lips sliding down to the belly button as Illya arched in enjoyment. As he moved to straddle his partner and slowly unbuckle his belt, he looked at the face of his partner, his eyes closed in excitement. Slowly he unbuttoned and unzipped his partner's trousers running his hand over the bulge that was fast hardening. Illya pushed up into Napoleon's hand and let out a deep moan. Smiling Napoleon rose from the bed and proceeded to pull trousers and underwear off with one swift motion. Gazing down at Illya he thought about taking his time to undress but impatience got the best of him and before you could say supercalifragilisticexpealidosus he too was nude. Sliding back onto the bed he took his partner in a gentle embrace. "Take me." He whispered into the ear next to his mouth.  


Illya pushed him back to look into his eyes. "Are you sure?"  


"I've never been surer."  


"Then turn over," Illya requested.  


"No, I want to watch you," Napoleon said.  


Covering Napoleon's lips with his own and kissing him soundly, Illya acquiesced to his wish. Looking around for any type of lubricant, he managed to ask, "You didn't by any chance bring some lube?"  


Laughing Napoleon replied, "Contrary to what you might think, I did not plan this."  


Getting up, Illya began searching, first the room, than the bath. Napoleon turned on his side with his head resting on his hand to watch as Illya came out of the bathroom triumphantly holding a bottle of oil aloft. Swiftly taking off his shirt and the rest of whatever he had on, he slowly pushed Napoleon back down and proceeded to cover his mouth with his own till they were both breathless. Opening the bottle and pouring some on his fingers he slipped in first one finger than another into the opening. Napoleon let out a small hiss, but kept his eyes on his partner as he was prepared and finally taken.  


Illya, fully sheathed, paused to look deeply into his partner’s eyes and take in not only the acceptance but the longing for more.  


"Illya, Illya," Napoleon moaned as he finally closed his eyes. And soon both of them were lost in the passion. It was over long before either of them wanted it to end and as Illya lay sated upon his friend and lover he asked softly, "Are you all right?"  


"Ummm, yes.” Kissing him, Napoleon responded, "I never knew."  


Rising and looking down at the face beneath him, Illya inquired. "Never knew what?"  


"That this could feel sooooo good."  


"You mean you've never done this before?" Illya said incredulously.  


"By this if you mean bottom? No."  


Illya fell backward on the king-size bed and covered his eyes. "Napoleon!"  


Napoleon simply turned toward him and jiggling his eyebrows. "Now it's my turn."  


Fade out to music in background "You are my shining light"  


Darn that commercial.


End file.
